Snowing Over Karakura
by Open Casket Ceremony
Summary: Kurosaki Ichigo is the leader of a small neighborhood gang looking for money. Hitsugaya Toshiro is the member of a rival gang, seeking revenge on someone from his past. Opposite sides clash, chaos breaks out, and love is somehow found. IchiHitsu.
1. Karakura

Author's Note: Yay, a new story! However, I'm only posting the first chapter for nows to give you a taste of what my next fic will be like. I'll update again once I've finished _The Ryoka and the Taichou_. Tell me how it is, and I'll consider updating sooner.

* * *

"How much did you make today?"

"Not much."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah."

In the center of an old, abandoned warehouse, a group of four people were gathered around a used card table that was missing one leg, and thus barely standing.

This warehouse was located in the most run-down region of Karakura, Tokyo, in other words, the bad side of town. To the mothers of Karakura, this was the place where they would constantly warn their children never to go near, but for the gangs that ruled the area and did as they pleased, this was home.

"Well, let's see it then, Kurosaki."

Reaching into his coat pocket, a tall, orange-haired teen produced a wad of bills and threw them carelessly onto the table.

Another figure, a thin male with glasses, snatched up the cash and thumbed through it, counting as the remaining two, a brawny, dark-skinned male and a girl with long, strawberry-blonde hair.

"Fifty-six. Not too bad for just half an hour."

"Nope, I actually had sixty-three. Grabbed 'em out of this rich old dude's man purse. Spent some on cigarettes."

The four of them had formed their gang years ago, and all of them had their specific jobs based on their abilities: The Thinker, The Swindler, The Runner, and The Fighter.

Ishida Uryu was The Thinker. He was the brains behind their operations, and he was the one who counted and kept track of the money: How much had been "earned" in one day, how much they owed to a drug dealer or two, how much was needed for purchasing dinner.

Inoue Orihime was The Swindler. She wasn't very smart in the way Ishida was, but she could work her charms quite effectively with words. Give her ten minutes with any stranger on the street, and she would instantly be able to coax at least thirty dollars from them.

Yasutora Sado, also called "Chad," was The Runner, as well as the least talkative of them. What he lacked in words, however, he made up in strength. With his powerful legs, he could run further than the average person, and faster, too, which came in handy for grab-and-go robberies.

Their leader was The Fighter. Named Kurosaki Ichigo, he was rude, impulsive, hot-headed, all while being extremely street-smart at the same time. He knew Karakura like the back of his hand and he was responsible for all their dirty work: standing in street corners and punching the lights out of the first passerby before making off with their wallet and jewelry. Rumor had it he had first became involved in gang activity after he had left home and killed a young man, just because he needed money to buy cigarettes. Yes, he had an unhealthy addiction to the glorious nicotine they provided him.

"Anyone want one?" Ichigo inquired, opening a fresh pack of cigarettes. No one answered, and with a shrug, he stuck one into his lips and lit it, taking a long and deliberate drag.

"So," he continued between puffs of smoke, "What's up?"

"It appears we have business with another group," Ishida answered, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Another group?"

"He means another gang, Kurosaki-kun," Orihime piped up.

"I know that," the orange-haired smoker snarled, pulling the cigarette from his lips. "I'm not stupid, you know."

"S-Sorry…" she muttered, looking down.

"Anyway, what's the deal with 'em?"

"According to my files here," Ishida announced, producing a stack of papers with various tidbits of information scribbled across them, "They call themselves the "Shinigami." They're not a very big group, but they're dangerous."

"Shinigami? 'Death Gods,' huh?" Ichigo scoffed, "What makes 'em think they're great enough for a name like that? Who's their leader?"

"Abarai. A guy named Abarai Renji."

"Renji, huh?" he repeated, puffing lazily on the cigarette before dropping it to the floor and grinding it into dust with his heel. "Who else has he got with him?"

"I'm not sure," Ishida answered with a shrug, "But according to my notes," he added, tapping the stack of papers, "They've got a kid who's an ex-government assassin."

"Sounds like trouble," Chad spoke. This actually happened to be what was considered in his standards to be a rather complex and lengthy sentence.

"Trouble's fun," Ichigo retorted. "Whatever, though. I guess we'll meet up with them if they really want to. What do they want, anyway?"

"Not sure. I think they're looking for someone."

"Looking for someone?" Orihime piped up. "And they want us to help them, right?"

"Precisely."

"So, who're they looking for?"

"Apparently they've been trying to find someone who killed some rich kid a couple years back. I dunno why, but they've transmitted a copy of his photograph here." As he said this, Ishida rifled through the stack of papers before producing a small photograph and pushing it across the table for Ichigo to see.

Ichigo picked up the fading image, staring at it. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. He tossed the picture carelessly back onto the table with a shrug.

"Is there something wrong, Kurosaki?" Ishida inquired, squinting at his leader through his glasses.

"Nah. I've never seen a guy like that in my life."

"I see. Well, I'll tell them tonight that we'll try to help anyway, in exchange for a hefty sum of money. They want to meet us at midnight."

"Whatever," Ichigo snorted with a nonchalant wave of his hand, "Do whatever you want. Tell me when it's time to go. I'm gonna go up to the loft and do some thinking. Don't bother me."

"Anything for you, Your Highness," Ishida scoffed as he began to put the papers away, Ichigo retreating up a creaky flight of stairs up to the warehouse loft, throwing himself onto a torn-up, dusty old couch that had been salvaged from some run-down hotel of sorts.

The truth was, Ichigo _did_ recognize the young man in the photograph. Why he did was a secret he had kept entirely to himself, though word had somehow slipped out and had become more of a rumor than a proven truth.

He had killed that man himself.

Just so he could by a pack of cigarettes.

The strawberry-haired teen closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, trying to remember what had happened that night, many years ago.

_It had been raining for three days straight. _

_Ichigo had been long fed up with life. He had simply stolen a handgun from a store, took his father's money, visited his long-dead mother's grave, and had left without bothering to say goodbye to his two younger sisters. _

_He was standing in an alleyway, leaning against the wall, the rain pelting his body. He didn't care. He had somehow lost the money he had taken, and after kicking the life out of a stray cat in his frustration, he had resolved to get himself some more._

_He wanted those cigarettes, and he wanted them now._

_As he waited, Ichigo suddenly heard two voices. A pair of students were making their way down the street, and they didn't seem to be in any hurry to get indoors despite the stinging rain. When they approached, their full figures came into view: A tall, young man with dark hair and a smaller, thin boy with hair the color of snow._

"_Hey! You two!" Ichigo demanded, stepping out from around the corner, his hand clutching the handgun tightly. "D'ya have twenty bucks I can have?" _

_The white-haired boy stared at him with wide, innocent eyes, before slowly tightening his grasp on the other male's hand, which he had been clutching on to._

"_What's the matter, kid?" Ichigo scoffed, "Never seen a gun before?"_

_The boy didn't answer, merely continuing to stare wide-eyed at Ichigo._

"_Stop staring at me, you brat! You want me to kill you?" _

_The other student glared at Ichigo. "Don't talk to him like that," he spoke slowly, seeming to be completely afraid, despite the fact that Ichigo was armed with a lethal weapon. "We don't have any money. If you'll excuse us now."_

_As the pair turned to leave, Ichigo found himself getting ticked off. How dare they?_

"_Where the hell do you think you're going!? Get your sorry asses back here!"_

_The white-haired boy turned to look at Ichigo again as they moved away, his wide, teal eyes seeming to bore holes through his body. Ichigo didn't like this one bit. He was annoyed, and even a little scared of his unnerving, silent stare._

_He lost his temper._

_He didn't even realize what he was doing._

_He jerked the handgun upwards, pointing it at the white-haired boy's head, intent on blowing his brains out._

_He pulled the trigger._

_What happened next was a blur._

_There was a loud, earsplitting crack as the bullet left the gun's barrel. Next was the sickening sound of it striking someone directly in the heart, and the sound of a body hitting the wet pavement with a thud._

_Ichigo's eyes widened as the tall, raven-haired student fell to the ground, blood seeping from his chest and soaking through his garments. At the last moment, he had turned around and thrown himself in front of the other to save him from the bullet that was meant to kill him._

_The white-haired boy's eyes grew to the size of the saucers as he dropped to his knees by his fallen partner, his hands trembling as he wrapped his arms around the dying youth's form. A single word made its way past his quivering lips, the name of the fallen._

"_K-Kusaka…"_

_Feeling sick to his stomach, Ichigo dropped the gun to the floor. He had just killed someone, taken someone else's life. He hadn't even been thinking, he had just lifted and fired._

_He wasn't sure if the boy was crying because the rain was making everything undistinguishable._

"_H-Here's what you wanted…" the boy stammered, reaching into the pocket of his now dead partner and producing a wallet, holding it out to Ichigo, still staring with those wide, oddly intimidating eyes._

"_You stupid brat!" Ichigo spluttered, snatching the wallet from his hand and shoving it into his own pocket. "Get lost! Stop staring! This ain't a circus!"_

"_You killed him," the boy whispered, staring up at Ichigo, ignoring his previous statement completely. "I…I'll never forgive you. He was…He was…"_

"_I don't give a rat's ass to who he was! Get out of here!" _

"_No."_

_Ichigo wasn't used to having 'no' as an answer. Angry and confused, he slapped the boy across the face, hard._

_Horrified at what he had just done, the youth quickly withdrew his hand, backing away before staring off at a run, determined to get as far away as possible from those terrifying aquamarine eyes._

_As he fled, the last words he heard from the white-haired boy were seared into his memory for what would be the following years, and the rest of his life._

"_I won't ever forget your face, s you'd be smart to remember my name, because it's the name of the person who will kill you for doing this…"_

_Ichigo was running as fast as he could but that didn't prevent him from hearing the boy tell him his name._

"…_Hitsugaya Toshiro." _


	2. Gods of Death

Author's Note: Since I already did the second chapter, I guess I might as well post it, too. No more updates after this until _The Ryoka and the Taichou_ is done! Unless you really, really, want to see more. This chapter ends on a cliffhanger. Heheh. I am so evil.

* * *

Some distance away, another group of four individuals were sitting together in an empty, dirty alleyway. The four of them made a peculiar quartet: A spiky-haired redhead, a narcissist with a bowl cut, a bald male (though he vehemently denied this), and a boy with hair the color of snow and teal eyes, who, compared to the others, was fairly young.

Being a disorganized group of thieves, drug dealers, drive-by-shooters, and whatnot, they had no specific tasks to carry out. They just did whatever it took to get what they needed to fend for themselves on the streets, which usually ended up in the killing of an innocent citizen.

Because of their violent and crass ways, their small gang had earned the nickname "Shinigami," and they were the most feared group in all of Karakura. Most of the gang violence in the region was usually centered around them, and they were indeed frightening enough to live up to their "Death God" title. In fact, their reputation had grown so that the mothers would warn their children, "Never go near Karakura at night. The Shinigami might take you away."

Their leader, Abarai Renji, was a tall and belligerent character who had lived his entire life on the streets, and thus, he knew his way around and was adept at dealing with the underground drug trade. His messy red hair was usually kept back in a ponytail, and his face and chest were adorned with peculiar tattoos.

Madarame Ikkaku was the name of the second member, and unlike most gang members, he refused to use a gun of any type, claiming guns were for cowards. Instead, his weapon of choice was a plain wooden sword, and it wasn't uncommon for him to literally beat a passerby to death with it.

The third member, Ayasegawa Yumichika, was Ikkaku's best friend, despite their differences. He was an adept pickpocket, though the money he stole normally went to purchasing cosmetics for himself as opposed to benefiting the entire group. By looking at his neat and clean appearance, one would never guess he was involved in a gang.

Finally, the last and newest member, who had only been with them for a year and a half, was a quiet boy with a cold personality. His name was Hitsugaya Toshiro, and despite his age, he was a skilled hand with a gun. Put one in his hands, name any target, and he'd hit it, point-blank with 99.9 percent accuracy. Since he didn't speak very openly about his past, no one was completely sure what the deal with him was. What they _did_ know was that he wasn't always involved with gangs and guns and drugs. In fact, he had used to be a straight-A student, a momma's boy, and a teacher's pet all rolled up into one. He had been seeing some rich boy who was older than himself for quite a while, and as the stories went, one day, when the two had been on their way home, that person had been shot and killed. After that incident, the young Hitsugaya had run away from home, determined to seek out and avenge the death of his lover. He had somehow become affiliated with the government, and had worked with them as an assassin for a few years, despite his age, in hopes of finding the object of his vengeance. It hadn't worked. So he had betrayed the government, run away (again), and joined the Shinigami to keep up the search.

"It's eleven o'clock," Renji announced, glancing at the watch at his wrist. It was a nice watch, and undoubtedly, it had been stolen.

"So? Who cares what time it is?" Ikkaku snorted as he spat on the pavement.

"Don't spit, Ikkaku" Yumichika sniffed, "It looks unattractive. Makes you look like a pig."

"Who cares if I look like a pig? Doesn't make a difference. We're no better than animals anyway, living out on these shitty streets."

"I said, it's eleven o'clock."

"We heard you, Abarai! What about it?"

"Remember?" Renji grumbled, rolling his eyes impatiently, "Some other gang said they'd try to help us find whoever Toshiro here was looking for."

"Do we get anything in return?" Yumichika inquired.

"Duh, money," Renji snorted. "You think I'm going to help them because I'm a Good Samaritan? Be smart about it before you ask stupid questions, will you? Anyway, Toshiro," he continued, turning to look at the aquamarine-eyed boy in an annoyed fashion, "You'd better be grateful. If you weren't such a hotshot with a gun, then I wouldn't even consider helping out a kid like you."

"I understand," Hitsugaya muttered.

"Good. Let's get moving. It's a courtesy to be there first."

"Be where?" Yumichika demanded, absently twirling a strand of violet hair around his index finger.

"We're supposed to meet up with them on the intersection," Ikkaku explained, picking up his wooden sword nonchalantly. "Things are gonna get messy, Yumichika. You'd better bring some extra makeup."

Renji snorted.

"Haha, very funny," Yumichika retorted dryly as they stood, heading off to the said intersection for the meeting.

* * *

At precicesly twelve o'clock that night, the two sides found themselves facing each other, standing. It was hard to make out each other's features in the dark, so they only could trust that the other was not about to shoot another.

"Abarai Renji," Renji announced in a very business-like voice, holding a hand out to Ichigo, who stared at it blankly, puffing away on a cigarette.

There was a long silence.

"Aren't you going to shake?"

"Nah."

There was another long silence before Ichigo finally pulled the cigarette from his lips as Renji lowered his hand. "The name's Kurosaki Ichigo," he shrugged. "That's all you need to know."

Ishida, Chad, and Orihime all introduced themselves as well, and Renji decided that the names of his fellow "Shinigami" were not worth telling them. After all, it was safer that way.

"So, Kurosaki, you want to tell us why you're here?"

"I dunno," Ichigo answered, jamming the cigarette back into his lips. "You tell me."

With a snort, Renji took a step back, moving to the back of his group. "Stupid punk," he muttered, "He's got no manners." He reached out, grabbing Hitsugaya by the shoulders and shoving him to the front of the group. "You talk to him, Toshiro. You're pretty. He'll listen to you."

As Hitsugaya reluctantly moved to the front of the group, Ichigo looked up.

There was a pause.

The cigarette dropped from the strawberry's lips.

He instantly recognized the snow-white hair and the wide, haunting teal eyes. He could recall them as clearly as if they had met only the day before. They still transfixed him like they had before with their piercing, somehow terrifying gaze.

He tore his eyes away fierecely before demanding, "Well, kid? Speak up."

"We were going to ask you to help us find a certain someone…" Hitsugaya murmured in a voice that was barely above a whisper, "…But that won't be necessary."

"What the hell do you mean!?" Renji demanded, moving back to the front, grabbing Hitsugaya by the shoulders angrily. "What the hell are you talking about? Here we go into all this trouble to find help for you, and now you're just going to reject it!?"

"Calm down, Abarai. Like I said, their help will not be necessary."

"And why not, huh?" he growled, his grip on the boy's shoulders tightening.

"Hey!" Ichigo snapped, "Let go of the kid, will you? Are you trying to crush him or something?"

Renji ignored him, however, still glaring at Hitsugaya. "I asked you a question, Toshiro," he snarled, "Don't act like you can't hear me."

"Because," Hitsugaya answered quietly, his hand moving downwards and coming back upwards. Squinting through the darkness, Ichigo's heart froze as he realized the young boy was pointing a gun at the spot directly between his eyes.

"…Because I've already found him."


	3. Gunshots

Author's Note: I know I said I wouldn't update until I was done with my other fic, but I decided to be nice. So, here you are. The third chapter is up for you to read.

* * *

Staring speechlessly at the gun pointed at his skull, Ichigo promptly let out a snort of disgust, Ishida, Orihime, and Chad watching in stunned silence.

"What're you talking about?" he scoffed, "Put the gun down, kid."

"You killed him," Hitsugaya replied in a soft voice that was trembling oh-so-slightly. "I already told you then that I would avenge him…meaning that I'll have to kill you here and now."

"Hold on, hold on!" Ichigo snapped angrily, trying to sound confident and convincing "What makes you so sure of that? I have no idea who the hell you are!"

"You know perfectly well who I am. But before I kill you there's something I want to ask you."

"I'm telling you, kid…"

"Why?" Hitsugaya interrupted quietly, the hand that unsteadily clutched the gun that was aimed threateningly at Ichigo's skull. "Why him? Why Kusaka? He never did anything to you…"

"I didn't mean to kill him," Ichigo snarled, a gun in his own hand now, which he was pointing at not Hitsugaya, but instead, Renji. There was no point in denying what had happened years ago on this same intersection. "You want to know the truth, kid? I really had meant to kill _you_. It was his own fault. He got in the way by himself, so what're you blaming me for? Shoot and I'll kill your leader."

"I don't care about him," Hitsugaya stated flatly. "Kill him if you want."

"You little brat!" Renji growled, "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

At that moment, shouts and sirens were heard from a distance off. Seconds later, they heard footsteps and shouts of, "Freeze! Police!"

"Shit!" Ichigo hissed. "Let's get out of here!"

"You heard him!" Renji shouted, "Split!"

At these words, people were sent running off in various directions, the police officers in hot pursuit. Hitsugaya raised his gun, concentrated, and fired, taking down two in the said amount of well-aimed shots.

Provoked, the officers opened fire in retaliation.

"What're you still standing around for?" Ichigo demanded, reaching out and grabbing Hitsugaya by the hand without thinking. "C'mon, let's – Watch out!"

There was a bang, and Ichigo shoved Hitsugaya to the ground in order to direct him out of harm's way, a hot, searing pain shooting through his right shoulder seconds later. Gritting his teeth, he pulled Hitsugaya back to his feet, jerking him behind an abandoned, parked car as shelter from the barrage of police's bullets, panting heavily.

The shots died down, and Ichigo whispered, "Follow me, alright?" He waited for a moment, sucking in his breath, before ducking out from behind the car and dodging into a dark alley, pulling Hitsugaya behind him by the hand.

"You okay?" he whispered as they crouched against the wall, masked by the night's darkness.

"I-I'm fine," Hitsugaya answered quietly, "But you…You've been hit…"

"So, what? It's not like it hasn't happened before?" Ichigo scoffed. He lifted a hand, pressing it against his shoulder, feeling hot, wet blood soaking through his sleeve and the dull end of a bullet lodged into the skin. He took hold of what he could, and with a low hiss of pain, tore it from his shoulder, throwing it to the street carelessly.

"The cops are going to be onto us in a couple of seconds," Ichigo whispered through teeth clenched in pain. "We'd better get out of here as soon as possible before they find us.

There was a moment of silence before Hitsugaya whispered, "Take me to a bar."

"What?" Ichigo repeated incredulously, "A kid like you shouldn't be drinking!"

"I never said I was going to drink anything," Hitsugaya retorted icily, "And you're a minor as well. You shouldn't be smoking. It's a vile habit and it's bad for your lungs."

"Right, and shooting people dead on the streets is totally okay?" Ichigo shot back.

"I wasn't the one who killed Kusaka."

"And I wasn't the one who used to kill people for a living."

Hitsugaya blinked. "How did you know that?" he demanded.

"I have my sources," the orange-haired teen smirked, tapping the side of his head smugly.

"So, are you going to take me to a bar or not?"

"Fine, but I don't know what business you'd have there," he shrugged. "C'mon. Let's go hitch a ride, alright? I don't feel like walking all the way to the closest bar."

Slipping out through the opposite end of the alley, Ichigo led Hitsugaya down a cement-paved incline. "Down there's a freeway overpass," he explained, pointing vaguely down over a metal railing that ran along the side of the street, under which a freeway was situated, dimly lit by a row of light posts.

Without waiting for a reply, he climbed over the railing, jumping noisessly down and landing on the asphalt. Looking up, he extended his arms. "Jump!" he hissed, "C'mon, it's not too far down, I promise."

Moments later, he saw Hitsugaya's small form making its way over the railing.

A sudden thought hit him.

He may be street-smart, but that did not change the fact that he was small. As the boy jumped down as instructed, Ichigo promptly extended his arms outwards protectively without so much as a second thought, catching the snow-haired before he could hit the ground.

"You know," Hitsugaya muttered as Ichigo deposited him on the ground, "I'm not helpless."

Ichigo didn't bother to reply to this. "Wait here," he ordered, pointing at the roadside, "I'm going to try and get us a ride."

Despite Hitsugaya's protests, Ichigo made his way out to the open road, standing off to the side so that he was visible but not prone to being run over by a speeding car. Fishing in his pocket, he cursed to himself upon discovering that there were no cigarettes left. Grudgingly, he hoisted his hand into the air, pointing his thumb outwards in the universal symbol for a hitchhiker in distress.

Being late at night, few cars were on the road, and the ones that did pass whizzed right past the impatient strawberry, who was getting more and more frustrated as the seconds passed.

With a roll of his cerulean eyes, Hitsugaya stepped out next to Ichigo, copying his ride-requesting pose and standing quietly under the dim glow of a streetlight. Only a few minutes later, a car pulled over to the side, the tires crunching the gravel as it came to a stop in front of the boy.

"Psh," Ichigo scoffed in an irritated voice, "Of course they'd stop for _him_."

It was a painful truth to Ichigo that despite his cold words, strange eyes, and social status, Hitsugaya Toshiro was, as a matter of fact, quite pretty, and this only proceeded to make him feel more protective of the boy, despite the fact that he apparently held some kind of murderous grudge against him.

A middle-aged man peered out the car window, squinting at Hitsugaya before asking, "What's a kid like you doing out here so late?"

"My cousin was driving me home," Hitsugaya lied innocently without batting a single one of his dark lashes as he gestured to the dumbstruck Ichigo behind him. "…But he wasn't concentrating on the road and we drove into a ditch, so our car is basically a wreck now. Would you mind giving us a lift into Tokyo, sir?"

"Tokyo? I'm headed that direction. Go ahead and get in," the man answered. "And do you want me to call a tow truck or something to get your cousin's car out of wherever it's stuck in?"

"Oh, no, that won't be necessary, sir," Hitsugaya answered sweetly, glancing at the man with an irresistibly demure and innocent look. "We've already taken care of it."

"You sure?"

"Yes," Hitsugaya answered, before opening the car door, climbing in, followed shortly after by Ichigo, who was muttering to himself about people actually being low enough to be swindled by petty seduction. This earned him a sharp jab in the ribs from Hitsugaya.

Thus, with another annoyed sigh, Ichigo glared unhappily out the window as they set off.


	4. Soft

Author's Note: Yay, you get chapter 4, too, 'cause I'm feeling generous today. I think reviews and thanks are in order. -hinthint-

* * *

"Thank you, sir," Hitsugaya spoke as he stepped out of the car, Ichigo following.

"Anything else you need?" the driver asked.

"No, sir. You've done quite enough." He turned to the strawberry, grabbing him by the hem of his shirt. "Let's go, Kurosaki."

As they moved away, Hitsugaya in the lead, Ichigo couldn't help but feel his spine prickle with the slightest amount of annoyance. Who did this kid think he was, leading the way as if he owned the place? With a scowl, he quickened his pace, putting himself in front of the white-haired boy.

Hitsugaya glanced at him, but said nothing as he stopped in front of a squalid-looking building.

"Wait out here," he muttered. "I'll be right back."

"Hey, hey, hey! Where d'ya think you're going, kid!?" Ichigo spluttered, watching in horror as Hitsugaya disappeared quietly into the bar.

Seconds later, as quickly as he had gone in, he returned out, a bottle of alcohol in his hands.

"What's that for?"

"You'll find out," the smaller boy answered as he walked in a suprisingly quick pace down the sidewalk, turning into a back alley, Ichigo hurrying after him. After a few more moments of brisk movement, Hitsugaya stopped, pointing to the area in front of him.

"Sit down."

"What?"

"I said, sit down."

"Whatever," the orange-haired gang leader muttered, seating himself on the dirty ground with a huff of breath.

As he did so, Hitsugaya opened the bottle of alcohol, disposing of the lid. He knelt down next to Ichigo, dispensing the bottle's entire contents down onto the teen's wounded shoulder.

"Ow! The hell was that for!?" Ichigo snarled, hissing in pain at his burning shoulder caused by the presence of alcohol on the wound.

"Disinfectant," Hitsugaya explained curtly as he stood. "It stings, though."

"No shit," Ichigo growled through clenched teeth, his fingers clutching his shoulder tightly. "The hell's your problem?"

Hitsugaya blinked, appearing to be hurt for a moment.

"Fine," he answered simply as he stood up. "Then I'll be on my way, then. I should find my group."

"You mean the rest of those Shinigami guys?"

"No."

"Then who?"

"It's none of your business."

With these words, Hitsugaya started off.

"Toshiro, wait." Ichigo reached out and grabbed Hitsugaya by the wrist, stopping him from leaving. "I can't let you go by yourself."

"And why not?"

"Because it's dangerous out here at night."

Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow. "Kurosaki," he spoke, "I'm aware of that. I'm not helpless. I can defend myself just fine. In case you've been too stupid to notice, I've been on the streets for years by this point."

"I know, but come on, let's face it," Ichigo implored, "To be honest, you're pretty. Someone's going to try to take advantage of you."

"And you think I would let them?"

"Well, no, but...But...C'mon, just stay with me tonight. Someone like you shouldn't have to sleep out on the streets alone."

"Someone like me? What do you mean by that?"

"W-Well..." Ichigo muttered, "It's hard to explain. No offense, but...Well, you're _different_. You're not the average type of pretty, you're...you're...Well, you don't look like some kind of bum like me. You're special. Someone like you should be...Sleeping somwhere warm and safe, in an actual bed, in an actual home. You weren't meant for this life. You're too young and you've got your whole life ahead of you. For me, it's already too late to go back. But someone's bound to take you in. You're young and pretty and you could be so much more than this...You should be a rich heir, or a student, or something, not...Not street garbage like me."

"You're speaking of me as if I'm a child."

"That's not what I meant."

"It doesn't matter. I'm not staying with you, of all people."

"One night. Just one night. That's all I ask."

Hitsugaya let out a long sigh before finally muttering, "Fine. One night."

Ichigo couldn't help but smile.

"Alright," he said, "Then let's get some sleep. It's late and your pretty face is going to be wrecked if your eyes turn all dark and baggy."

"Shut up," the white-haired boy muttered.

There was a pause before Ichigo removed his jacket, spreading it out on the floor. "Here," he said, patting the fabric on the ground. "Sleep on this. You don't deserve to put your head on the dirty ground."

"What am I?" Hitsugaya scoffed, "A daimyo?"

"No," the orange-haired youth snickered, "A princess."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, little _hime_," Ichigo teased. "Get some beauty sleep."

"Did you just call me...?"

"What, you mean _hime_?" he answered, blinking. "Why not? It's cute."

"It is _not_ cute, you insolent strawberry. Don't call me that."

"As you command," Ichigo began, with a flamboyant mock bow. "...Hime."

Hitsugaya gave him a long and angry glare, and the strawberry couldn't help but shudder. He had almost forgotten about those haunting, innocently twisted and cruelly heart-wrenching eyes. He tore his gaze away quickly, his heart racing as he turned away.

"Do not make me repeat myself."

"I was just kidding," he muttered lamely. "Sleep tight." There was a pause.

"Hime," he added under his breath. Fortunately, Hitsugaya didn't seem to hear him.

That night, Ichigo slept like a log.

Hitsugaya didn't.

In fact, he didn't sleep at all.

He was too busy thinking, wondering, and feeling guilty. After all, he had just helped someone whom had been a personal enemy of his.

Kusaka's enemy.

He rose, quietly getting up off of Ichigo's jacket, quietly pulling the fabric over the orange-haired boy's head. It was a habit of his. Whenever he killed someome in their sleep, he'd cover their faces first. That way, when he pulled the trigger, he wouldn't have to see their innocently sleeping faces and save himself the guilt of attacking a defenseless victim.

He reached into his coat, slowly pulling out his gun, cocking it and holding it to Ichigo's head, clenching it tightly in his hands.

He squeezed his eyes shut, moving his finger onto the tirgger.

"I...I can't do this," he whispered, opening his eyes as he lowered the gun.

It was as he said. He wanted to kill him, to shoot him right through the skull and end his life just as the would-be victim had done to Kusaka. He had to get revenge. He had been living all those years on the streets, moving from government agency to government agency before finally settling with the Shinigami. All that for this moment, and now, of all times, when he could finally kill the man who had killed his lover...He was chickening out.

_I'm so pathetic...I've been killing people for years, so why can't I just pull the trigger? I can't even avenge Kusaka...I'm so worthless..._

He put the gun back into his coat, reaching over and removing the jacket from Ichigo's head.

"...Hime?" Ichigo groaned sleepily.

Hitsugaya flinched, dropping the jacket, alarmed. His body relaxed after realizing that Ichigo had already fallen back asleep.

Quietly, he rose to his feet, giving a final glance in Ichigo's direction before setting off at a hurried walk. He had to get away, get as far away as possible. By this point, he was running, his feet pounding quietly on the pavement.

If he couldn't kill him, he'd have someone else exact his revenge for him. He'd feel less guilty besides.

He stopped, slipping into the shadows of a long-abandoned playground, seating himself on a bench and producing a mobile phone from his coat pocket, flipping it open and punching in a few numbers before putting the electronic device to his ear.

A voice on the other end answered.

"Yes?"

"I've found him," Hitsugaya spoke into the mouthpiece. "And I can lead you to the rest of his gang, too."

"You mean you've found Kurosaki Ichigo?"

"Yes."

"So, you want us to send someone out to kill him for you?"

"Yes, sir."

"I knew you wouldn't be able to do it. You were always a softie, but I'm not blaming you. You're still a kid. Anyways, your promise?"

"Yes, I'll lead you to the Shinigami, too."

"Very well. Good work, Hitsugaya-san."

Hitsugaya blinked hard, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Anything you ask of me...Aizen-sama."

* * *

Author's Note: I'm sure most of you know this by now, but just in case, here's a little bit of background information.

At one point in this chapter, Ichigo calls Hitsugaya by the title of "_hime_." In Japanese, "hime" means "Princess."

Also, I don't really think I made it clear enough during Hitsugaya's phone conversation, but, yes, "Aizen" is a government worker. And yes, by making this phone call, Hitsugaya has revealed himself to _still_ have allegiance to the government. In other words, this whole time, he's been using Renji and the rest of the "Shinigami" with pland to backstab them in the end. Don't you wonder how they'll react? And how Ichigo will react?

Heheheh. You'll have to wait to find out.


	5. A Grave Situation

Author's Note: Sorry I haven't been updating my other fic. I'll do that soon. I don't really like this chapter, either.

* * *

When Ichigo finally awoke, the sun barely risen at all. Its rays were feebly trying to cut through the blanket of fog that had smothered the city, turning the normally bright and secure street lights into muffled glows. No cars could be heard driving by, save the occasional early commuter.

With a groan, he pushed himself off of the damp and sticky ground, rubbing a smear of dirt and who knows what else off of his face.

That was when he realized Hitsugaya was gone.

"Where'd he go?" he muttered. "That stupid, ungrateful _hime_…who does he think he is, running away after all the trouble I go through for him?"

He blinked, before quieting down. After all, Hitsugaya had a goal. That goal was to kill him. And the further away from him he was, the better.

The strawberry had to admit sticking with him _had_ been pretty stupid. The kid could easily have shot him through the head at any given second, especially when he was blissfully asleep. He had let that little fact slip from his mind, but even so, why was he still alive?

Why hadn't he killed him yet?

Hadn't he established the fact that he was going to avenge the death of Kusa-whatever-his-name-was?

At any rate, Ichigo wanted answers. He needed to know, why had the boy chosen not to kill him, and instead, walked away as if nothing had happened?

He stood up, looking around, wondering where he could have gone. Not far, hopefully.

The orange-haired teen started off at a run, ducking out of the alley and hurrying along the sidewalk. He moved along quickly, scanning the area for any signs at all of silvery-white hair or emerald eyes.

Nope, not here.

Not there.

Why the hell was he even bothering? He could be anywhere in Japan, or even out of the country, for all he knew.

Not allowing this thought to discourage him, Ichigo continued the search, squinting through the fog, which, thankfully, was beginning to lose its thickness.

As he jogged along, he slowed down to a walk, panting heavily. He had been running way too long and way too far. He didn't even know if he was still in Tokyo, for crying out loud.

When Ichigo looked up, he found himself facing a large, metal gate. Upon reading a small plaque that was attached to the metal bars with the peeling paint, he discovered he had stopped in front of a cemetery.

A shiver ran down his spine as he jammed his hands into his coat pockets. (Aha, a cigarette!) He knew, though, that the sudden chill was most likely not fully in part to the weather.

He pulled the cigarette from his pocket, sticking it between his lips before lighting it and taking a long and deliberate puff. He had a funny feeling about this place. Some intuition of his was telling him to just grab the gate, open it, walk into the cemetery, and have a good look.

For some reason, he chose to listen to his intuition.

He jerked the gate open, wincing at the creak it made as he stepped inside, closing the rattling metal behind him. He made his way forward, smoking and strolling in the midst of the eerie atmosphere as if he owned the whole damned place.

He walked past rows and rows of headstones, not really sure of where he was going.

A shrieking crow nearly scared the life out of him, and he stopped only to let out a loud stream of curses and chuck a rock at the offending bird, which instantly flew out of the scraggly tree it had been in and flew away, flapping its wings and cawing in irritation.

Shortly after the crow's departure, he turned, looking to his left.

Squinting through the fog, he blinked in surprise.

There, against a headstone, was none other than Hitsugaya. The boy was curled up on the damp ground at the headstone's base, his coat pulled up to his chin. Upon closer inspection, Ichigo realized he was fast asleep.

"What the hell?" he grunted. "Why the heck's he sleeping in a freakin' graveyard, of all places?" However, he couldn't help but smile at how innocent and childlike the white-haired boy looked in his sleep. One never would have thought that he had been a government assassin and a gang member.

Taking another puff on his cigarette, he walked closer, curious.

That was when he stopped, his heart freezing.

His chocolate eyes caught sight of the name inscribed on the headstone, in plain gray font so that it was painfully easy to read.

"Kusaka Sojiro," he read aloud under his breath, the name striking an all-too-familiar memory in his mind. He had been the young man he had shot years ago. In other words, he was the very person that Hitsugaya had sworn to kill him for in his name.

Feeling sickened, he stepped forward. For some reason, he didn't like the thought of a small kid like Hitsugaya sleeping on the ground above the spot where some dead guy was buried.

Ichigo knelt down, clenching his cigarette between his lips as he reached down and touched the boy's shoulder, shaking him gently.

"Hey, _hime_," he whispered, "Rise and shine, you little sleeping beauty."

There was a pause before with a small, tired whimper of annoyance, Hitsugaya rolled over as his dark lashes fluttered open to reveal the eerie aquamarine eyes underneath.

"Kurosaki?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah," Ichigo answered. "Get up."

There was a silence.

"I don't want to."

"What'd you say, you brat!?"

"I said, I don't want to. Who do you think you are, my mother?" Hitsugaya answered in an irritated tone.

"What're you doing out here, anyway? Aren't you scared?"

"No."

There was another pause.

"Why're you sleeping here, huh, Toshiro?"

Hitsugaya glanced at him briefly before looking back away. "Am I wrong to want to sleep next to Kusaka?" he mumbled quietly.

Ichigo's expression softened at these words. It was in situations like these that he couldn't think of what the appropriate thing to say was. After all, he was feeling guilty. He had taken away what formerly seemed to be the center of Hitsugaya's life, and in consequence, he was at fault for all of the suffering he had endured for the last years. With this logic, he actually didn't really blame Hitsugaya for wanting to kill him, not that he approved of the idea, though.

"Look, Toshiro," he muttered, "I'm sorry. I really am."

"You're sorry?" Hitsugaya repeated coldly as he pushed himself to his feet from the dewy ground. "You want to apologize to me now? I'm sorry, Kurosaki, but you're too late. You're five years too late. I can't forgive you. Even if you had said this to me back then, I still wouldn't have forgiven you. He did _nothing_ to you. He died because _you_ couldn't control _your_ temper. Nothing you say to me will _ever_ earn you my forgiveness. I hope you understand that a mere apology won't bring Kusaka back."

"Hey, hime, don't be like that," Ichigo protested, "I said I was sorry, didn't I? At least I _did_ apologize, right? And it's not like killing me is gonna do anything, either…"

"You're right," Hitsugaya retorted, "It won't. But at least I can die in peace on these godforsaken streets knowing that the man who killed Kusaka has learned his lesson."

"Oh, come, on! Just get over it, will you, hime? It's not like _you're_ the one who's dead, so why're you making such a big deal over some other random guy?"

"He wasn't just 'some other random guy,' Kurosaki," the white-haired boy shot back, his voice rising as he spoke. "He was _everything_ to me! _You_ were the one who took him away from me! You tell me, I'm not the one who's dead. Well, you may be right, but even after all these years since I started searching for you, I still wish I _was_ dead! Do you know what it's like, Kurosaki? If I could reverse time I would rather die before losing him to…to a selfish bastard like you!"

"Hime, I…"

"I've already told you not to call me that."

Ichigo let out an irritated huff of breath before reaching out and firmly taking hold of Hitsugaya's shoulders, looking deep into his eyes. "Listen to me, Toshiro," he hissed through clenched teeth. "I'd do _anything_, if it was possible, to go back in time and reverse everything so that night would never even happen. You know I can't do that. I want you to forgive me, but the only time you would ever do that would be after I'm dead. I can't let you go and kill me off, 'cause even it meant being forgiven…I'd lose _you_."

"What are you…?"

"Toshiro, I'd do anything for you."

"Why would you?" Hitsugaya demanded, jerking angrily away from Ichigo's grasp. "I have no reason to believe you."

"It's complicated!"

"I don't care. I don't want to see you, ever again."

"Hime, don't be like this. Please."

"Stop calling me that! I am _not_ obliged to listen to you," Hitsugaya hissed as he stood up, turning to leave.

"Toshiro, don't go!" Ichigo pleaded frantically, reaching out and grabbing Hitsugaya by the wrist. "You can't leave."

"And why can I not, may I ask?"

"Because I love you."


	6. Ignition

Author's Note: Yeah, I agree with some of the reviewers that Ichigo's little affection-type-thing towards Hitsugaya was a little sudden, and it seemed a little out of place, too. Sorry about that. I couldn't figure out how to get the story going otherwise. I hope this chapter will provide a better transition.

* * *

Ichigo's words were followed by a stunningly painful and hollow silence.

"…What?"

"I love you. It took me a long time to realize it, but I know now that I've loved you since the very day I first saw you, because you've got the most beautiful eyes, and…and, it's hard to explain, but…Well…I hate to admit it…But I knew I could never have you, and it pissed me off, so I tried to kill you, and that Kusaka guy saved you, and…I never meant to hurt you like this…"

"You're lying to me," Hitsugaya whispered as he looked away. "There's no way you can love me when you know nothing about me."

"Come on, hime, just hear me out…" Ichigo begged, his voice trailing off, seeing as Hitsugaya seemed completely unaffected by his words.

"I don't _want_ to listen to your bullshit anymore!"

"Toshiro, please, will you just listen to me!? You think I'm joking? You think I'm telling this to you for fun!?"

"Precisely."

"Even if you don't believe me," Ichigo growled angrily, "That doesn't change anything. I already said that I love you. Is that too hard for you to comprehend, hime? You're not stupid."

"Don't lie to me!" Hitsugaya retorted. "You're a goddamn liar, Kurosaki Ichigo. You feel nothing for me and you know it, as I feel absolutely nothing but utter resentment for _you_."

"That's not true!" the strawberry protested. "I do _too_ love you! I've loved you for five years now, and it's really hard to explain, but…But, please, Toshiro, you've got to believe me."

"Why should I? I have no reason to believe you, let alone to trust you."

"_This_ is how much I fucking love you!" Ichigo shouted, his temper getting the better of him as he reached forward, seizing both of Hitsugaya's wrists and pulling him forward, leaning downwards and pressing his lips viciously against those of the white-haired boy's.

Hitsugaya's eyes widened, an expression of sheer terror flickering across his features before he finally came back to his senses, pulling abruptly away, the fear in his eyes evident as he slowly took a step back.

"I…I'm so sorry…" Ichigo stammered, his heart sinking as he realized what he had just done. How could he have been so stupid and tactless? He couldn't even believe himself. "Hime, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, I just…I just need you to trust me on this."

"D-Don't come any closer," Hitsugaya whispered, his voice quivering and his eyes wide as the orange-haired teen took a step towards him. Instinctively, the petite boy shrank fearfully against Kusaka's headstone.

"Toshiro, just calm down." the strawberry insisted as he continued to move forward, reaching out to gently touch Hitsugaya's face.

"No," Hitsugaya whimpered, his back pressed against the cold front of the headstone as he withdrew from the contact. "P-Please, don't…"

"It's alright, hime," Ichigo murmured. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." With that, he reached outwards with both arms, wrapping them around the boy's trembling body as he pulled him close, holding him tightly in his arms. "It's alright."

"Let go of me, Kurosaki."

"Toshiro, please…"

"I said, _let go of me_!"

Hitsugaya wrenched himself from Ichigo's grip, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes as a hand clumsily plunged into his coat. Seconds later, he jerked a handgun out and upwards, pointing it between the taller teen's eyes.

"What're you going to do?" Ichigo demanded. "Are you going to kill me, huh? Well, go ahead and kill me. There's no point in living anymore if the world's full of narrow-minded brats like _you_! I've told you, time after time, I love you. It's your own choice whether or not you want to listen to me."

"I don't want to kill you," Hitsugaya whispered, "But I've sworn to. I don't break promises. I've sworn before Kusaka's grave that I would do whatever it takes so that you die a death like his."

At that moment, the strawberry's eyes caught sight of movement from a few yards away. His chocolate eyes widened in horror.

"No! Toshiro, get back!" He threw himself forward, grabbing Hitsugaya's arm and jerking him behind his body just as the sound of a gunshot rang out across the deserted cemetery.

The bullet hit him in the side, missing any vital organs, but it still hurt like hell.

"Mother fucker," he hissed through gritted teeth, relinquishing hold on Hitsugaya's arm as he clutched his wounded side, blood soaking through his shirt and jacket.

"Kurosaki!" Hitsugaya gasped, his eyes wide. "Why did you…?"

"So _this_ is where you've been, Hitsugaya," a voice announced as a scowling redhead appeared, his figure coming into view from the mist, followed by a bald man and another with a bob hairstyle.

"A-Abarai?" Hitsugaya stammered.

"You stupid little bitch," Renji hissed, "You've been double-crossing us this whole time, haven't you? You disappear, and where do we finally find you!? With some guy from another gang!"

"It's not what it looks like, Abarai," Hitsugaya shot back. "I'm not with him. We just…"

"Shut up!" the redhead growled as he walked forward. "I've got something else to talk to you about. You've been keeping a little secret from us, haven't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do!"

"Shut up!" Ichigo snapped, looking up at Renji, his eyes blazing with utter hatred. "You fucking lowlife," he hissed, "I can't believe you'd try to kill someone from your own group, especially when he's done nothing wrong!"

"Oh? You think he's done nothing? Well, I'll show you," Renji retorted. Without any further explanation, he took another step forward, reaching out and viciously taking a fistful of Hitsugaya's snowy white locks. With his other hand, he tore the boy's coat from his body. He shook the garment, hard, and a variety of things fell out: ammunition, a few coins, assorted and suspicious pills, a spare handgun, and a small card, which Renji picked up.

"The hell's your problem!?" Ichigo shouted, dropping his gun as his arms wrapped protectively around Hitsugaya's body. "What are you, crazy!? What was that for!?"

"Look at this, Kurosaki Ichigo!" Renji yelled back, holding the card in the strawberry's face. "A government identification card! He's been with us this whole time and sending information back to the government! He's probably done the same to your group, too!"

Ichigo's eyes widened the slightest, but he did not relinquish hold on Hitsugaya.

"So what? Government agent or not, he's still Toshiro, isn't he?"

With a growl of frustration, Renji raised his hand to slap Hitsugaya, who, despite himself, shrank fearfully into Ichigo's arms. In turn, Ichigo reached into his pocket, pulling out his own gun and pointing it at Renji's head.

"Don't fucking touch him," he hissed. "Lay one finger on Toshiro, and I'll blow your fucking brains out."

"Hey, Renji, simmer down, will you?" Ikkaku grumbled, rubbing the side of his head in annoyance. "We don't want you guys killing each other."

"Ikkaku's right," Yumichika nodded. "Starting a fight in a cemetery is unsightly."

"Shut up, both of you!" their redheaded leader snarled angrily. "Stay out of this. This is business between us three, and it doesn't concern you two. Why don't you guys just leave now, huh? Wait for me across the street from this place. I'll be done with both of them in less than five minutes.

"Oh, really?" Ichigo demanded indignantly as Ikkaku and Yumichika grudgingly hurried away to where their leader had indicated.

"Really."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah! I'll blow your stupid face off, strawberry."

"You're on."


	7. Pride

Author's Note: I think that at the rate that I'm going, this fic will be only 15 chapters long. I have an idea for a new one, too, but I won't tell you about it yet.

* * *

What seemed to be a challenge over two hot-headed gang leaders was actually much deeper than just that. To be precise, it was more like a fight over pride; for their own pride, but, in the case of Ichigo, most of all, it was for Hitsugaya's pride.

"Toshiro," Ichigo murmured, releasing the smaller boy. "Things are gonna get messy. Maybe you should leave, too…"

"The hell are you talking about?" Renji snorted. "That kid's not going _anywhere_. I'll deal with him after I'm done beating the shit out of you."

"Fine," the orange-haired teen retorted, stiffening. "If that's how you want to do it, then that's fine by me. Toshiro and I'll just have to kick your ass together, right, hime?"

"Don't put me in the same class as you, idiot" Hitsugaya huffed, but Ichigo took this as a general agreement.

"What the hell? Did you just call him _hime_?" Renji scoffed. "What is he now, Kurosaki, your little whore or something?"

"You freaking son of a bitch!" Ichigo shouted, lunging at Renji without warning. "Call Toshiro a whore one more time and I'll rip off your fucking ponytail!"

He grabbed the front of Renji's shirt, slamming him into a nearby headstone, hard. In retaliation, the redhead slammed his fist into the strawberry's face. Unfazed, Ichigo spat in Renji's face (a mixture of both blood and saliva) before giving him a vicious kick to the abdominals.

The scuffle continued for quite a while like such. Each gang leader threw punches and kicks at each other, taking every opportunity to toss in a vulgar insult as well.

Ducking under a punch directed at the side of his head, Ichigo took a moment to wipe the blood off the corner of his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He darted forward again, dealing his opponent two heavy blows to the face before recieiving and equal vicious series of attacks to his own.

"Stop it!" Hitsugaya protested, but as expected, he was ignored by the other two males who were to busy trying to tear each other into pieces to listen to him. "Stop it, both of you! You think an immature fist-fight like this is going to solve anything!?"

"Shut up and stand back, Toshiro!" Ichigo snarled back, staggering to his feet after being shoved over by Renji. "I already said I'd kick his sorry ass, so I will!"

"Kurosaki, Abarai! You're going to end up killing each other!"

"That's the point, brat!" Renji snapped angrily as he sent another blow at Ichigo's face. "A kid like you should stay out of your superior's business!"

"You're not his fucking superior!" the orange-haired teen shouted, his anger flaring dangerously as he made another lunge at the red-headed leader of the Shinigami. "You think you're better than him, huh!?

"Damn straight, strawberry!" he retorted "He's _mine_, so I'll say whatever I want to him!"

"What the hell!? Toshiro's not your property!"

"Yes, he is! Who was the one who took him into the Shinigami!? Who was the one who taught him how to survive on the streets!? Who was the one who's been feeding him and putting clothes on his back this whole time, huh!? I'll tell you who – me! He owes me his _life_, and he chooses to rat us out instead!"

"I don't _care_ what he did, he's still not 'yours,' got it!?" Ichigo retorted angrily, slamming his fist into the side of Renji's face with all his strength.

"You piece of shit," Renji growled, spitting a bloody wad of spit onto the ground. "Who do you think you are? I'm going to fuck you up so bad, they undertaker's not even going to be able to distinguish your face from the rest of your body!"

The redhead's hand plunged into his pocket as he jerked out a gun, pointing it at Ichigo. The strawberry cursed loudly upon remembering that he had dropped his own gun a few minutes before when he had taken Hitsugaya in his arms.

"Abarai, you've got to stop it!" Hitsugaya screamed, grabbing Renji's arm and trying to pull the gun from his hand as he aimed it at his adversary. Renji pulled the trigger, and frantically, Hitsugaya jerked his arm to the side, the gun firing off about five feet to the left of its target.

"You fucking whore!" Renji snarled. "I told you to stay out of this! Who do you think you are, huh, making me miss like that!?" He raised his hand, slapping Hitsugaya viciously across the face, knocking him to the floor.

With a yelp of pain, the boy fell to the floor, and not giving him a chance to catch the breath that seemed to have been knocked out of him, Renji brought his foot down on his throat, cutting off his breathing. The redhead shifted his weight forward, cruelly crushing the helpless boy's windpipe.

Hitsugaya choked, trying feebly to push Renji's foot away, but found himself being easily overpowered by the larger and stronger male.

"T-Toshiro!" Ichigo spluttered in horror. "Hang in there, I'm coming!"

He started forward, cursing and dashing to the side as Renji fired a shot at him. He dodged the bullet successfully, but found himself having to duck as another shot was aimed at him.

He scrambled for his gun, which was lying on the grass, a bullet whizzing by his face and grazing his cheek. Gritting his teeth in pain, he stumbled forward, snatching the firearm off of the ground and bringing it upwards, his finger flying to the trigger as he aimed at Renji's heart.

In response, Renji shifted the direction of the gun's aim, instead, removing his foot and seizing Hitsugaya by the hair, jerking him to his feet. He clapped one hand over the boy's mouth, preventing him from speaking. With his free hand, Renji held the gun to Hitsugaya's head, pressing the muzzle into his temple threateningly.

"You shoot, and I'll kill him," Renji growled. "One funny move and I'll send your precious little 'hime' on an express train to the afterlife."

"Why, you dirty son of a bitch," Ichigo hissed, clenching his teeth. "Let him go."

"I refuse."

"Then I'll force you to!"

Ichigo raised the gun again, and provoked, Renji pulled the trigger.

"_No!"_

What happened next was a blur.

As Renji pulled the trigger, Ichigo had come to the realization that there was no way he could dodge at such a close range.

With a frantic, pleading scream for Renji to lower his weapon, Hitsugaya wrenched free from his captor's grip, throwing himself between the two at the last moment. A fraction of a second later, the bullet struck him directly in the chest.

Ichigo's eyes widened in horror as Hitsugaya's small body hit the floor.

"_Toshiro!"_

His eyes wide with shock, the strawberry threw himself onto the ground next to Hitsugaya, wrapping his arms tightly around the boy's body, his hand desperately pressed to the wound, trying to stem the flow of blood.

"Hime!" he screamed, "Hime, you freaking idiot! What was that for!?"

He turned to Renji, overcome with sheer hatred as he raised the gun faster than the redhead could blink, firing a shot at his head. He knew he had hit his mark due to Renji's scream of pain. The leader of the Shinigami crumpled to the floor, clutching his face, blood seeping through his fingers.

Taking his chance, Ichigo stood up, holding Hitsugaya bridal-style in his arms, turning away as he dashed off, running as quickly as his feet would carry him. He knew he had to get him to a hospital, and he had to do it fast.

"Hang in there, hime!" he pleaded through ragged breaths as he ran along, flinging the cemetery gates open and charging down the sidewalk. "Please, you've got to hang in there…"

"K-Kurosaki…" Hitsugaya stammered, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his eyelids fluttering as he fought to maintain conciousness. "I…I'm sorry…"

"I-It's alright!" Ichigo answered, "It's going to be okay. I'm not going to let you die!"

He felt the boy go limp in his arms as conciousness finally slipped from his frail grasp, his head lolling sideways against his chest. Ichigo ran even faster, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

He couldn't afford to take his time.

He had to get to a hospital within three minutes, otherwise the boy who had just saved his life would be dead for sure.


	8. Advent

Author's Note; So sorry, I said I was going to update _The Ryoka and the Taichou_, but I didn't, for some reason...I promise I'll have the next chapter for that out before Monday, and I have a little note on my profile about another new fic I'm working on.

* * *

"Somebody, help us!" Ichigo shouted frantically as he threw the hospital doors open, Hitsugaya held tightly in his arms. "Please, somebody, anybody! He needs medical attention _now_!"

A receptionist hurried forward. "Calm down, sir," she implored, "We'll have a doctor come take a look as soon as he has time."

"Time!?" Ichigo retorted. "We don't have time! _He_ doesn't have time!" he continued, gesturing at Hitsugaya's lifeless form in his arms. "He's dying! He's been shot in the chest, for god's sake! You've got to do something _now_!"

The receptionist nodded, hurrying off. Seconds later, a team of doctors and nurses hurried to the scene, wheeling a metal gurney along. Someone removed Hitsugaya from the orange-haired teen's arms, lying him across the gurney and pulling the sheet over his body and head.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Ichigo screamed, starting forward. "He's not dead! He's not dead yet, so stop acting like he is!"

He was pushed back by a group of nurses. "Sir," they insisted, "We assure you, we have our patient's best interests at mind."

"I don't give a fuck!" Ichigo screamed, trying to fight past them. "Let me go with them! Please! It's my entire fault this happened to him!"

"Calm down, sir! You'll have to stay in the waiting room if you want to see him later!"

"I want to see him _now_!" Ichigo yelled, trying frantically to push his way through. "Move, you freaking bitches! T-Toshiro!"

He watched as the doctors wheeled the unconscious boy around the corner and out of sight, his heart sinking. Never before had he seen Hitsugaya so helpless and weak, and it scared him.

He shoved his way viciously past the group of nurses, despite their protests and threats to call security. He ran down the hallway, slipping on the slick tiles, just in time to see the doctors and their patients disappear inside the emergency room, the doors closing in front of him.

"Open the fucking doors, you bastards!" he screamed, throwing himself against the gray doors and pounding at them with his fists. "If Toshiro dies I'm gonna sue the daylights out of you!"

He continued to slam his fists incessantly against the doors, and by now, blood was running down his knuckles, but he didn't care. He felt someone grab him from behind, but he didn't care. He kept screaming out Hitsugaya's name until his throat went raw, struggling furiously against the uniformed security guards that had been sent to restrain him.

Still fighting, he found himself being dragged to the lobby and being shoved back into the waiting room.

As the people in the waiting room stared at him like a circus freak, he felt his ears beginning to heat up with humiliation. This was a hospital, not a bar. He felt so stupid for throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of public.

Ichigo grudgingly sat down on one of the plush chairs. His knees felt weak and his heart was aching as if someone was trying to crush it. He was just too tired to fight anymore, and he wanted more than anything for everything to be alright for once in his miserable life.

As a receptionist approached and handed him some forms and documents, he weakly nodded and agreed to fill them out like a good boy. He knew that resisting would do nothing, and that all he could do now was wait and hope that Hitsugaya would pull through alright.

After handing in the forms, he plopped himself back on the chair, picking up a magazine from the coffee table and flipping absently through its pages.

As he looked up and scanned the room, he saw a multitude of faces that looked just as worried and anxious as he was. Feeling somewhat comforted, knowing that everyone was in the same boat as he was, he relaxed.

As his eyes flickered top the side, Ichigo couldn't help but swallow as he noticed someone. The person who had caught his eye was simply sitting, one leg crossed over the other, a placid smile on his face. He was dressed nicely, with smart-looking spectacles, but something about the man bugged the wits out of the strawberry.

He was pulled from his thoughts as a doctor entered the room, holding a clipboard.

"Mr. Kurosaki?"

"That's me," Ichigo muttered hurriedly, tossing the magazine down and rising abruptly to his feet. As he did so, he couldn't help but notice that the suited man was staring at him with an expression of interest. "How is he?" the strawberry continued, trying to pretend he didn't notice anything.

"He'll live," the doctor answered, "Right now, he's in shock and is in a temporary coma, but we expect him to wake up soon. However, the recovery process may be slow. We discovered traces of various drugs in his bloodstream, and thus, cell repair and regrowth may be slower than normal."

"Thank goodness," Ichigo breathed. "Can…Can I see him now?"

"Yes, but please keep your voice down. Right this way."

Nodding eagerly, the strawberry followed the doctor out of the waiting room. Even as they left the room and entered the hallway, Ichigo still felt as if the suited man's bespectacled gaze was boring into his back.

As they entered the hospital room, Ichigo hurriedly rushed to Hitsugaya's bedside, swallowing as he noticed how frail he looked.

The boy's face was sickeningly pale, and his eyes were closed. His chest was rising and falling softly as he breathed, and Ichigo couldn't help but feel uncomfortable, despite the fact that the heart monitor was beeping at a fairly steady rate. His tufty white hair was a mess, and Ichigo reached out to brush a stray strand from his face.

"I'm sorry, hime," Ichigo murmured quietly as he took the unconscious boy's hand in his own, holding it tightly as if he was afraid of him slipping away. "I'm so sorry…"

No response.

"I love you, Toshiro," the orange-haired teen whispered, "I really do. So you'd better not leave me, you understand?"

His chocolate eyes widened as he noticed Hitsugaya begin to stir. His eyelids fluttered open as he stared weakly at the anxious strawberry with dulled teal eyes.

"Toshiro!" Ichigo gasped out, giving his hand a squeeze. "You feeling alright?"

"Kuro…Kurosaki," the boy rasped in a voice barely above a whisper. "You…"

"It's alright, hime," Ichigo insisted firmly. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere until you're all better, alright?"

At that moment, the door opened, and in stepped the man in the suit with the glasses from before.

Ichigo looked up, his eyes narrowing as his blood seemed to freeze in his veins.

Hitsugaya, too, looked up, his eyes widening the slightest.

"Long time no see, Hitsugaya-kun," the man spoke with a smile that Ichigo didn't like the least bit. "How are you feeling?"

"Aizen-sama…I…"

"You need not worry," the man interrupted. "We will take care of the hospital bills and the paperwork, but I find it strange how you are here…with _him_." As he spoke the word "him," he gestured to Ichigo.

"Who the hell are you?" Ichigo demanded. "How do you know Toshiro?"

With a chuckle, the man reached into his suit and produced a card, holding it out for Ichigo to see with a smirk. "My name is Aizen Sosuke," he explained smoothly. "I'm with the government, and little Hitsugaya-kun here works under me."

"I know, and I don't give a shit whether or not Toshiro's from the government."

"My, my," Aizen laughed. "You have such a crude mouth, Mr. Kurosaki. Of course, it's expected from some common boy from the streets like you."

"Shut the hell up!" Ichigo retorted. "How do you know my name anyway!?"

"I know lots of things," Aizen laughed. "I know what you did five years ago. I know where the rest of your little "gang" is. I know everything your group has been up to. I know what everything that has happened in these past days. How do I know all of this, you ask? Why, Hitsugaya-kun kindly shared the information with me, and he has asked me…"

"Look, I don't know what you want with me, but-"

"…To kill you, Mr. Kurosaki."


	9. Remorse in the Midst of Rain

Author's Note: Sorry I haven't updated in such a long time! I do have a new five-shot fic and a one-shot coming up, and of course, the conclusion of "The Ryoka and the Taichou," though. The five-shot, in case you haven't looked at my profile recently, is going to be more of a comedy than my other fics, sort of like "Fishing." I think I need to start writing lighter fics again in which there's no blood or gore or carcasses scattered all over the place like dominoes. And by the way, I plan on ending this particular fic with ten chapters. So yes, it will be shorter than my standard fifteen-twenty chapter fics. So yes, this is the second-to-last chapter! And yes, I intend on making a tragic ending. All my fics end happy or at least bittersweet so I kind of want this one to be a tad different.

* * *

"Kill me?" Ichigo repeated, his eyes narrowing.

"That's right, Mr. Kurosaki," Aizen answered, "Though we _are_ in a public place right now, so we can save that for later. For now, since you were the one who checked Hitsugaya-kun here into the hospital, would you be so kind to check him out now? We have business to attend to."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Ichigo shot back. "I said no. Toshiro's not going anywhere until he's recovered. He's in no condition to get up and walk around and do whatever it is you and the rest of those government agents or whatever do."

"Mr. Kurosaki, I'm not sure if you fully understand who you're dealing with here," Aizen chuckled. "You know, I can track anyone I want to. I can track down the rest of your little group and have them all killed on the spot. You wouldn't want that to happen to your little friends, now, would you?"

"You son of a…"

"That's what I thought. I advise you check Hitsugaya-san out of the hospital. Unless, of course, you want something unpleasant to happen."

"You heard him, Kurosaki," Hitsugaya murmured. "Check me out, please."

"Hime…"

"Do it."

Hesitantly, Ichigo rose, moving towards the door. "Fine," he stated flatly. "Fine, then, if that's what you want, Toshiro, then I'll do it."

He disappeared, heading down the hallway. Taking advantage of his absence, Aizen turned back to Hitsugaya.

"Well, then," the brown-haired man spoke, "It certainly seems that the boy has become quite fond of you, no?"

"I wouldn't say that, Aizen-sama," Hitsugaya answered, "I'd appreciate it if you would refrain from making such comments from now on. It's rude, and I don't like being talked to in that manner."

"Ah, I see," he laughed, "Touchy, are we? Is there something wrong, eh, little Hitsugaya-san?"

"No. I believe I've already told you that you are not to speak to me like that. Trust me; you do not want to make me angry right now."

"Is that a threat?"

"It depends on how you perceive it, sir."

"Listen closely now, Hitsugaya-san," Aizen stated, the smile back on his face, "Just because you work with me, doesn't mean that I won't hurt you if you irritate me. You're a pretty little kid, and it would be such a shame to ruin that face of yours, wouldn't it? After all, naughty children need to be punished, otherwise they will never learn their lessons. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Aizen-sama."

"Good. As long as you understand this, and don't forget it," he smiled.

"Yes, sir."

At that moment, Ichigo stepped back into the room, glancing suspiciously at Aizen, before, after a brief pause, announcing, "We're good to go, I guess."

"Very well," Aizen nodded as he rose, "Let's go, Hitsugaya-san. We have business to take care of, and I don't like to be kept waiting."

Unsteadily, Hitsugaya made his way out of the hospital bed, following Aizen quietly as he made they made their way down the hall, Ichigo trailing behind them.

"Where are you going?" the strawberry demanded, his words accompanied by the sound of their footsteps echoing through the deserted hallway.

"Oh, that's classified information," Aizen answered curtly, "Certainly, we can't share it with some low-class boy off the streets such as yourself."

"Son of a bitch," Ichigo hissed under his breath through gritted teeth as he continued to follow the pair of government agents, his eyes glued to Hitsugaya's backside. He could almost _feel_ the hate and anger surging through his body. He realized that Renji hadn't been wrong to attack Hitsugaya, now that he knew that awful, sinking feeling of betrayal. He wanted, with all his heart, to grab Hitsugaya by the shoulders and shake him, scream at him, punch some sense into him, but even if he wanted to, he knew he wouldn't have the heart to hurt him, even if he _was_ acting like this.

"Hime," he protested as he hurried through the hospital doors after the pair. Upon stepping outside, he discovered it was raining, and it was raining quite heavily at that, which he discovered after splashing through some small puddles.

"Hime, are you seriously going to just turn your back on me like this? After everything I've done for you and said to you?"

"Kurosaki," Hitsugaya spoke slowly, stopping. "I'm not turning my back on you."

"And why is that?"

"If I did, then I'd never be able to do what I promised I would."

"Toshiro-"

Before Ichigo could finish his sentence, he felt a sudden searing pain in his lower body, and as he doubled over, his hands moving to the afflicted area, he could feel hot, wet blood spilling into his hands.

His chocolate eyes moved rigidly upwards to look at Hitsugaya.

The white-haired boy held a gun in his hand, and it was still smoking from the after-effects of a freshly released bullet. Looking into those eyes that he was so desperately in love with, Ichigo felt as if his heart was being turned to ice. In Hitsugaya's eyes, he saw almost no emotion. No regret, no sympathy, no unspoken apologies, absolutely nothing but ice cold contempt.

"Hime…" he choked, coughing on the blood that was making its way up his throat and into his mouth, splattering onto the floor to mingle with the muddy rainwater accumulating in puddles all around him. "Hime, you…"

The words in Hitsugaya's reply did not quite seem to match up with the ice in his eyes, however. As the boy began to speak again, the orange-haired teen was sure he could detect traces if uncertainty and regret.

"Kurosaki, I've already told you that you mean nothing to me," Hitsugaya stated, his voice trembling the slightest as he lowered the gun. "You know very well that the only reason why I was ever with you to start with was so I could do this. You say you love me, but you must realize that even if you do, it will not change the way I feel about _you_. Even if it did, I would not allow such silly emotions to overcome me as they have to you. Look at where they have brought you. You tell me you love me, Kurosaki? If you want to feel something for me, then I advise you to feel nothing for me but hate. Hate me, Kurosaki, curse me, ill-wish me. Do whatever you like, but please, let me ask you one last favor. You must _stop_ loving me at once, otherwise this guilt will be my death. I never wanted to do this to anyone, but you left me no choice. A promise is a promise, so you have to understand why I chose to do this.

His vision blurring, Ichigo's knees buckled underneath him as he collapsed onto the wet pavement, raindrops battering him from every side. "Hime, please…" he choked, begging pitifully. "You can't do this to me…Hime, this isn't like you! You're not this kind of person…"

"You know nothing about what kind of a person I am. I'll simply do what is right," the younger boy retorted, "And if you'll excuse me now, Kurosaki."

As he spoke, the orange-haired teen noticed a black car pulling up by the side of the car. Aizen opened one of the doors, gesturing for Hitsugaya to get in.

"If you please, Hitsugaya-san."

"Kurosaki, truly…I…" Hitsugaya began, as if to form an apology. He stopped, the rain drenching him as he gave Ichigo a final glance. "Never mind," he muttered, "I have nothing more to say to you. Let's go, Aizen-sama."

"Toshiro, what am I to you?" Ichigo spluttered, blinking furiously and trying to maintain focus. "I don't care if you don't answer, but…But you should just fucking know…That you're _everything_ to me. I'm sorry, Toshiro, and I want you to say the same, since you're a double-crossing son of a bitch, and yet, I can't hate you…I can't hate you, even if you beg me to."

"Kurosaki, I'm not going to apologize to you. I have no reason to be sorry, and you should not be apologizing to me, either. Save your shit for Kusaka when you see him in the afterlife." These were the last things Hitsugaya said to him before quietly getting into the back of the car.

"Not going to finish the kid off?" Aizen asked.

"No, sir. I'd rather him die slowly and painfully like a dog than quickly and effortlessly."

"Toshiro, no…" Ichigo rasped, his mind failing him. He was losing conciousness quickly. "You can't leave…Please, don't leave…"

The last thing he saw before everything went dark was the dark outline of the car moving away, and the screech of its tires as it disrupted several puddles in the process, splattering the strawberry with muddy water.


	10. Snowing Over Karakura

Author's Note: Yes, friends, this is the _last_ chapter of "Snowing Over Karakura." And yes, as you guessed, it _will_ include snow. In Karakura. Hence the title.

* * *

"Is something wrong, Hitsugaya-san? Why the glum face?"

"It's nothing," Hitsugaya murmured. "I'm just thinking, that's all."

"And what exactly are you thinking about?" Aizen inquired.

Hitsugaya did not answer.

"I see," the brown-haired government agent nodded. "Too personal, eh? Well, I do apologize for being intrusive on your thoughts," he added, though he didn't look or sound sorry at all, and only a fool would take his words as being sincere.

There was another long and uncomfortable silence.

The young white-haired boy looked out the window, which was streaked with rain, making it difficult to see anything at all.

"Aizen-sama, you may drop me off here."

"I'm afraid we don't have time to stop, Hitsugaya-san," Aizen answered with a smile, "Like I said earlier, we have business to attend to."

"We?" Hitsugaya repeated. "You mean, yourself. I no longer intend on affiliating myself with you, the rest of the government, or any other group at all. I've already taken care of everything that I needed to get done. I no longer have any use for you, and you no longer have any use for me."

"We _do_ have use for you," Aizen answered, his tone hardening. "We need your skills."

Hitsugaya shook his head. "There is one shot left in my gun as of now," he spoke, "And I already know what I intend on using it for. Not for the benefit of anyone or anything, but rather…for the selfish desire to save myself from this shame."

"Now, see here, Hitsugaya-san, we're not stopping. We're already running late, and-"

"I repeat," the teal-eyed agent said quietly, "There is no longer any 'we,' simply 'you' and 'me.' I thank you, though, for tolerating me for this long. You don't need to stop, if you are in such a hurry to leave, then I'll be on my way now."

Without another word, Hitsugaya opened the car door, stepping from the moving vehicle despite Aizen's threats and protests.

"You'll regret this, Hitsugaya-san," he called out as the car swerved away, leaving Hitsugaya to stand by the side of the road in the rain.

"Will I, now?" the boy murmured to himself, turning to face the cemetery he had arrived at upon getting out of the car. "I suppose I will have all the time to regret after I'm dead."

He looked up at the iron gates, pulling them open and walking inside. It had barely even been a day since it was the last time he had gone into the graveyard, but it felt like it had been many weeks already. He had a purpose for coming back, and that purpose was something he had been intending on doing starting from the moment when he had pointed his gun at Ichigo and pulled the trigger.

He made his way through the rows of bleak headstones. The rain was letting down by this point, and instead, it was replaced by snow. As the white matter fell to earth around him, Hitsugaya pulled his coat tighter around himself and kept moving.

Presently, he stopped at a certain gravestone. He had made so many trips to this particular grave that he could probably make it there with his eyes closed.

Shivering slightly from the cold, the snow-haired boy slowly knelt at the base of the headstone, his eyes flickering momentarily across the name it bore.

"I'm sorry, Kusaka," he whispered as if there was someone there to listen to him. "I know you would hate to see me like this. If you saw what I did to Kurosaki, and all those other people, then you would have hated me, wouldn't you? You would have stopped me. I swore to you I would kill him, but I know you would never want that. I now realize that it was selfish of me…I did it for _myself_. I did it so I could feel as if the reason you were taken away from me would be justified, and all these years trying to do this have made me something I never wanted to be…"

He let forth another long, shuddering sigh before speaking again.

"…I've turned myself into a murderer. I've killed so many, trying to get to my selfish causes. I know you're so disappointed in me, Kusaka, and I'm sorry. Please, forgive me...There are so many things I regret, but yet, there is just one more life I need to take."

Slowly, Hitsugaya reached into his coat pocket, pulling out his handgun with shaking hands. He wasn't sure if this was because of the cold, or fear, but nevertheless, he knew what he wanted. There was only one last thing he could do.

"I'm sorry, Kusaka," he whispered, then tilting his head to look into the snowy sky.

"I'm sorry…Kurosaki."

He then closed his eyes and placed the gun to his own head.

* * *

Ichigo was fighting to stay awake.

He could feel his mind shutting down, like a light being flickered off oh-so-slowly in the midst of a power outage. He knew he was dying. He had been hit in the stomach, and he could feel the blood filling his internal organs and moving up his throat so that each feeble cough caused the red liquid to splatter across the floor, mingling with the dirty puddles.

"_Save your shit for Kusaka…"_

"That's right," Ichigo though to himself as the words Hitsugaya had spoken to him came to mind. "Maybe...Maybe I should go back to the cemetery and apologize in front of that Kusaka or whatever guy's grave. Just so I can die without any regrets, for all the good it'll do me…"

His eyebrows creasing with effort as he blinked hard, the strawberry pushed himself slowly and unsteadily to his feet. It didn't work.

Pain shot through his abdomen and his knees buckled underneath him, splashing back into the puddles. "But what I'd really like to do is to see hime one last time," he told himself, "He probably went back to the government base or whatever, but who knows. Maybe he went to the cemetery."

No matter what, he had to get up and get going.

He pushed himself up again, his palms grinding into the pavement as he unsteadily rose, his teeth gritted as he tried to ignore the sharp spasms of pain running through his body as he did so.

He took a cautious step forward, wobbling dangerously, his vision blurring. The rain wasn't making this better, either, but nevertheless, he urged himself forward.

Each single step was sheer torture. His whole body was in pain, and it was hard enough trying to maintain his vision.

He didn't know how long he kept it up; all he knew was that moving like he was bringing his inevitable death faster. Breathing heavily, he looked up; relief washing over him as he realized that he had arrived.

The gates to the cemetery were already open, and he slowly made his way through. Ichigo proceeded to trudge among the seemingly endless rows of headstones, leaving a trail of dripping blood.

As he approached Kusaka's grave, he was surprised to see someone else already there.

He wasn't too surprised to identify the tell-tale white hair, though, that matched the cold, stinging rain that, much like Hitsugaya himself, had slowly changed into something more beautiful and gentle: snow. With a smile, Ichigo knew that the end of everything was drawing near, and it would be nice to die as it snowed.

"Toshiro," he called out hoarsely, choking as blood found its way into the back of his throat. He staggered forward a few steps, his heart turning to ice as he saw what Hitsugaya was doing; holding a gun to his own head.

"K-Kurosaki…"

He couldn't go on anymore. Wincing, the orange-haired teen collapsed in the snow next to Hitsugaya. He felt cold, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hang in there.

"Hey," he muttered, spitting more blood out into the snow as he faced the grey headstone of one long passed away, "Hey, Kusaka, I'm sorry, okay? I…I can apologize all I want to you in person 'cause I'm coming to join you."

Hitsugaya glanced at Ichigo, and although his vision was horribly blurry, even the strawberry could see the remorse and regret that finally pierced its way through the haunting aquamarine eyes he had fallen so desperately in love with, and still was.

"Hey, hime," Ichigo rasped, "I'm real sorry, okay?"

"No," Hitsugaya whispered, "You shouldn't have to apologize. Truly, Kurosaki, I meant to say this to you…But…But I…I'm so sorry, I don't know how you will ever forgive me for what I've done to you…"

"No, it's alright," Ichigo murmured weakly. "It's alright." Looking up again, he was slightly startled to see tears running in thin frosty streams down Hitsugaya's cheeks. "Don't cry, hime…Please, don't cry…"

"Thank you, Kurosaki. Thank you for everything," Hitsugaya whispered.

As Ichigo watched, he raised the gun back towards his head, and the strawberry managed to catch one final glimpse of those stunning emerald irises before the boy closed them and pulled the trigger.

There was the sickening sound of a bullet tearing through the smaller boy's skull, accompanied by the even more heart-wrenching sound of his body slumping lifelessly to the floor as blood splattered across the snow-covered ground.

"Toshiro…"

Ichigo knew that Hitsugaya only had a few seconds left to live. Strangely, though, he didn't feel anything remotely close to sadness. He knew he was going to die as well, anyway. There was no point in mourning because death was only the beginning of the afterlife, if such a thing existed.

Using the last of his strength, he pulled himself forward across the ground, moving to where Hitsugaya's body now lay.

"Sweet dreams, Sleeping Beauty," Ichigo whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around the dead boy as the snow continued to fall around them. "Sleep tight."

He could feel his entire body going numb by this point. Even as he pressed his lips against the achingly cold ones of Hitsugaya, he felt nothing but his senses leaving him.

"I love you."

He felt Hitsugaya's body go limp in his arms, and his heart stopped beating. That was when he knew that the boy was most unavoidably dead.

Ichigo had no regrets, no last thoughts. He was perfectly happy like this: dying alongside the only person he had ever loved and ever would love, with the beautiful snow drifting to earth, covering the ground in its perfect, pristine, pale beauty.

And then his white, snow-covered world left his senses as everything slipped away into darkness.

_THE END._

* * *

Boo-hoo, a tragic (sort of) ending to what I think was one of my most depressing fics, partly because this is the only one that Hitsugaya never actually tells Ichigo that he feels the same way. Haha. I implied it, but notice how he never mentioned anything about loving Ichigo back or anything like that, which I think is the most depressing part about this fic! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, and yes, I will be updating my other fics and posting a new one soon, though, I actually have temporarily suspended _From Me To You_ because I've hit writer's block on that one.


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